Category: photography

Penitence among the ruins

In my life, only 2 museums have profoundly impacted my psyche: The U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, DC and most recently the Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia. As instruments for education, they are a means to an end.

The prison in Philadelphia was built to help those find and practice penitence for whatever crime they committed. Human nature can be flexible and adaptable across time, however, incarceration and solitary confinement has a way of bringing ruin to flexibility and adaptation.

With that ruin, even the strongest of men—and women—lose their hearts, emotions, everything, to spiritual atrophy.

If marketing is the means to help us remember a brand and its benefits, then the marketing of such museums is to reinforce the unimaginable cruelty were capable of, and to keep alive the most powerful and universal of virtues that are love and hope.

 

Spring

I saw this “owl” atop one of the office buildings downtown. Steadfast in her duty, she’s a stoic deterrent from pigeons whom would decorate ledges and windows and screens and cars parallel parked on the street below.

After a long winter, anything that hints of spring is fair game. Just about anything.

Now, this is bright…this is spring…this is what many look forward to…

Across the Crossing

Personal photography, the kind that takes you out and about, is often a solitary process. For many photographers that’s often the case. The image above is one of my [new] favorites in the category of “street photography.” For me it’s more accurate to call it “wandering photography.”

I typically have no mission or subject matter in mind. I essentially chase the light regardless of whether it’s on a city street or a country road.

Light, texture and shadow tug on me, asking me to stop and consider the possibility just before I press the shutter. You may not see what I see when I come across a play between light and textures. However, what you see and feel matters just as much.

The Artistic Power of Self-Awareness

Dr. Stephen William Hawking was an amazing human being for many reasons. His recent death made me think that the realm of possibilities in life are practically endless. He was proof positive that we should diss “dis-” in disability. We all have abilities in one form or another. I recently attended a gallery opening for CATA [Community Access to the Arts].  Through an innovation known as Art Realization Technologies [see image below], people with physical disabilities get to express their artistic abilities.

So then, here on canvas, each one attributed to a person, is their artistic awareness of their individual sentience. Expressive. Personal and self-aware. Fragile. Powerful. Confident, each canvas like the artist, one of a kind.

Artist David Gardner with Red Bird, acrylic on canvas.
Artist Julie Raymond with Untitled 2011, acrylic on canvas.
Artist Carol Neuhaus with Outside the Box 2016, acrylic on canvas.
Artist Myles Tosk with Untitled 2008, acrylic on canvas.

CATA founder Sandra Newman [L] with Carol Neuhaus and Carol’s art trainer.
Yes, every piece is for sale and the artists along with CATA benefit from the sales.

 

 

A Touch of Spring

Pour ceux qui sont fatigués de l’hiver, laissez-moi partager avec vous un aperçu du printemps.

Chaque printemps, Smith College ouvre la porte de leurs maisons vertes. Pour un petit don, vous pouvez vous perdre dans la chaleur, la couleur et la promesse de la météo à venir.

La patience est nécessaire car les week-ends sont toujours occupés avec les visiteurs, proches et lointains.

 

 

 

The [early] Morning After

In less than a week, the northeast USA got hit with another storm. While many are so tired of winter, many more are really done with snow and the cold and wanting spring to arrive. Now.

With close to 10 inches [25 cm] of wet, heavy, snow falling overnight, the next morning did not disappoint for people like me.

With nothing but stillness and silence all around me this morning, I thought of Dan Gurney, an incredible achiever by any standard, who said something to the effect of, “If you see something and can make it beautiful, but choose not to, what does that say about you?”

 

Stress

I suppose someone helped a vine or tree limb grow like a corkscrew. On the other hand, maybe this is a message from Mother Nature and she’s telling us of the stress we’re subjecting her to.

This image shows part of a very large oak limb horizontally spanning about 30-feet [9-meters]. Growing straight up from this limb is a host of small branches that look a lot like saplings. Usually I see such saplings on the forest floor, but this is the first time I’ve seen them emerging from a limb.

I’m not an arborist, so just maybe this is all part of a seasonal norm…

Tanglewood

I have been to this place many times before, but not in winter. It’s called Tanglewood, the summer home of the Boston Symphony Orchestra. To walk the grounds void of flora, visitors and the orchestral sounds of a storied symphony is not only cathartic, but prone to nostalgia.

When you’ve visited a place numerous times, memories can fill many empty spaces. On a summer Sunday afternoon during the season, it’s not an uncommon quest to find a suitable open space on the lawns. But, you do find a spot, spread out your blanket, set-up your food and beverages and soak up the sun and air, all while music literally spans the grounds.

 

 

 

An Enduring Perspective

Vertical dimensions and shapes provide seminal perspectives. The Bay of Fundy is such a place to feel them. It claims to have the highest tidal range on the planet, on average rising and falling 56 feet [17 meters], twice a day.

While the tides run relatively constant, the power of moving water creates an impermanence to the landscape. The land changes albeit slowly. And of course, we physically change too, though on a timeline far shorter than these “monuments.” These amazing structures will outlast me, which is to say they’ll still deliver an enduring perspective to others who might be standing on the very spots when I took these photos.